


i know you is another way to say i like you

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 18:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10577154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Hand holding can have long-term consequences. For example, if your friend's family see you, you might have to keep pretending to date them. This is especially true of Fero's family.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madelinestarr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinestarr/gifts).



> For Maddie, for their birthday - the best mirrortwin and coauthor a gal could ask for.
> 
> Spoilers up to the beginning of 'Winter in Hieron', and also I would like to say for the record that I wrote this _before_ Lem visited Fero's family in canon (inspired, if anything, but repeated listening to [the cover of ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand’ from Across The Universe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F7WXRNQT9ko))
> 
> Thanks to Sophie, for betaing this.

Rosemerrow was a lot different than Lem expected.

 

Fero almost never talked about it, and when he  _ did _ it was all snide remarks about politicians Lem had never heard of and a history he was mostly unfamiliar with. This was in direct opposition to how other people talked about Rosemerrow, which mostly, when Lem asked, boiled down to it being a nice place for a holiday.

 

It  _ was _ a very pretty town, obviously designed for people to look at and take stories home about, reflective of the halflings that lived there who appreciated such things. Lem made note of how the dress of certain halflings was reflected in the ornate woodcarvings on their store windows, almost too pretty to be called something as utilitarian as a uniform. The snatches of conversation he heard were, by and large, polite.

 

It was almost hard to believe that Fero - scruffy, shoeless, and currently haggling for their lunch in the most abrasive way possible - came from here. 

 

Fero held out one of the pies to Lem. It smelled  _ wonderful _ .

 

“It’s got rosemary in it,” said Fero, around a mouthful of food, “they don’t use rosemary as much in Velas, s’probably why you’re noticing it.”

 

Lem nodded. Fero did that sometimes, answering a question Lem hadn’t asked him yet. He’d thought maybe it was an extension of Fero’s druidic ability, but when he’d asked Fero had just shrugged, wrinkling his nose at the thought.

 

“You just get this  _ look _ on your face sometimes,” Fero had said, “So I figure I’d better answer before you ask someone else and get us into trouble.”

 

Lem imagined that if he  _ did _ get such a look on his face, it had probably been stuck on his face from the moment they entered Rosemerrow. If Fero had noticed it he was ignoring it, pulling at Lem’s sleeve any time Lem’s pace slowed to look more closely at a windowframe or a street sign. 

 

Fero was twitchy in a way Lem associated with being in danger, looking around quickly and keeping them both moving. Occasionally someone they passed gave Fero a second look, as though they recognised him or were about to stop them and say something, but Fero would hustle Lem on before anything could come of it.

 

When they’d arrived in Velas after making it through the forest, the first thing Fero had done was find them a room. The first thing he’d done when they’d arrived in Rosemerrow was do everything he could to  _ avoid _ going to their room. That might have been because, in this instance, they were staying with Fero’s family.

 

Lem was, of course,  _ burning _ with curiosity. If Fero barely talked about Rosemerrow, he  _ never _ spoke about his family, even going so far sometimes as to turn into an animal to get out of answering Lem’s questions. Lem had begun to worry that perhaps something  _ terrible _ had happened to them, something so traumatic that Fero couldn’t bring himself to speak of it, but no. They were all perfectly safe and well in Rosemerrow, and apparently very upset at Fero for never sending any letters.

 

Lem knew this, because he’d been reading over Fero’s shoulder at the time. This was also how he knew Fero’s mother had asked him to stay with them when he was in Rosemerrow. Fero had gone to throw the letter in the fire, but Lem had snatched it out of Fero’s hands. And when Fero had said he wasn’t going to reply, let alone  _ stay _ with them, Lem wrote a reply himself.

 

Fero’s mother had written back, her hand much neater than Fero’s, her words cautious but polite, and invited him to stay as well.

 

Fero had been furious. Lem had been  _ delighted _ .

 

For all his complaining, Fero had still come along with him, sulking almost the whole way  _ of course _ . Well, except for the parts where they’d been travelling through the deeper parts of the forest, Fero swooping ahead of him as a bird, bounding ahead as a deer, or a cougar. It was always a little lonely without Fero to talk to during those parts, but Lem couldn’t begrudge him for it. Fero always seemed like he was having a tremendous time, his mood always lighter afterwards, his smile coming more easily and his comments less barbed.

 

Fero’s cousin Arva had met them earlier in the day, running into them at the markets. It was strange to meet someone who looked so much like Fero who was so still. Arva had been doing her shopping and Fero had managed to hustle Lem away quickly out of “politeness” despite Lem’s best efforts. 

 

“Look at her, she’s busy!” Fero had said, hustling Lem away, “Besides, you don’t want to be  _ late _ do you? That’s very rude too, so it’s like you’re being double-rude.”

 

Before Lem could meet, and politely interrogate, Fero’s family, he first had to meet with two Archivists. Well, he didn’t  _ have _ to, he’d sent them a letter after they’d decided to head to Rosemerrow inquiring about their outpost, and they’d, in turn, invited him out for a drink. 

 

The letter had been mostly a formality, since Morbash had told him to report to them so that they could assess how the plant was doing, but it would be good (and a little nerve-wracking) to be around Archivists again, even for just a short time. Lem hoped perhaps they’d tell him a little more about the city, since Fero wasn’t inclined to.

 

Lem paused to look at an ornate map of the section of the city they were in that had been placed at a street intersection. Vines and birds had been carved around the edge of the map as a border, framing the collection of houses and shops. They looked a lot more charmingly rustic than their real-life counterparts, which all sported a coat of fresh paint. Fero tugged at his sleeve again.

 

“You don’t need a map,” said Fero, “ _ I’m _ your map, remember?”

 

“I was just  _ looking _ ,” said Lem, “besides, what if we get separated, I’d like to have  _ some _ idea of how the city’s laid out.”

 

“It’s just a big,” Fero waved a hand, gesturing widely, “grid thing, with curled streets on the side. It only seems more complicated because you haven’t been here before.”

 

“Because any time I suggested it you went into a sulk,” said Lem.

 

“Yeah, well,” said Fero, “This place is dumb.”

 

Instead of repeating the same argument they’d had approximately eight hundred times since the beginning of their friendship, Lem took a deep breath in and out.

 

“Here, see,” said Fero, gesturing upwards to the inn’s sign, “I told you I’d get us here.”

 

“You always do,” said Lem, “but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to at least  _ see  _ a map.”

 

Fero rolled his eyes, pushing open the door. It was easy to spot the other Archivists as they walked in. They were the only other orcs in the place apart from Lem, towering over the other occupants. They both nodded to him in greeting as he approached.

 

“You must be Lem,” said one, “I’m Kliss, and this is Snart.”

 

“Yes,” said Lem, focusing on not fidgeting. 

 

He hoped he didn't appear as nervous as he felt. Snart nodded again, giving Fero, who was standing by Lem’s side, a curious look.

 

“Oh! Um, this is Fero,” said Lem, “he’s, um, he’s a friend of mine?”

 

Kliss and Snart exchanged a quick look.

 

“Nice to meet you,” said Kliss, “it was… forward-thinking of you to get a guide for the city. Many first-time visitors get lost, especially from the New Archives.”

 

“Lotta history, you can get distracted” added Snart, taking a drink.

 

“Oh Fero’s not… I mean, He  _ says _ he knows the layout of things, but I wouldn’t call him my  _ guide _ ,” said Lem awkwardly.

 

“Just because I haven’t been here in awhile, doesn’t mean I can’t be,” said Fero. “Nothing much changes in Rosemerrow.”

 

“You said it seemed like a lot had changed,” said Lem.

 

Fero waved a hand. “Not the stuff that  _ matters _ . It’s  _ fine _ .”

 

“I am  _ definitely _ going to have to get a map,” said Lem, mostly to himself, but loud enough for Fero to hear.

 

Fero huffed, throwing his arms up. “You take a wrong turn in the forest  _ one time _ \--”

 

“It was absolutely more than once,” Lem shot back.

 

“Like you could have navigated us any better,” said Fero, “anyway, the point is, they’re right: I’m  _ basically _ your city guide.”

 

“Only because--” Lem broke off, noticing Snart and Kliss staring at him. “Um. This is to say. No, Fero’s not-- we’ve just been travelling together for a while.”

 

“I see,” said Kliss.

 

Kliss and Snart were still looking between him and Fero curiously. He hadn’t even really thought about whether or not such a meeting needed secrecy. If Lem were to be honest, he and Fero had travelled together for so long that it hadn’t really occurred to him  _ not _ to bring Fero, not matter what the level of secrecy this meeting was supposed to have.

 

It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time he and Fero had gotten odd looks from people-- they were an oddly matched pair, especially in places like Rosemerrow-- but the look Kliss and Snart gave each other had a strange glint to it that Lem couldn’t place.

 

When he’d first met Fero, Lem remembered the other orcs in his dorm being confused as to why he kept sneaking Fero inside so that Fero could poke around, and the explanation that Fero was sort of his friend only seemed to cause them more confusion. He wondered how fresh Kliss and Snart were from the Archives-- they seemed at ease amongst the crowd of halflings, but didn’t show any indication that they would have interacted with them. Lem wondered if he would have been the same, if he’d never had Fero at his side.

 

Fero gave Kliss and Snart a broad, false grin, the one he thought was charming but that Lem always thought showed too many teeth to properly convey charm. “I’m going to get a drink, you guys need a refill?”

 

“No,” said Kliss, “thank you.”

 

Fero shrugged. “Suit yourself. Lem?”

 

Snart pushed a glass forward. “We already got one for him.”

 

Fero tilted his head to one side, still grinning. “Just me then, huh?”

 

He tapped the side of Lem’s leg on his way past, the way that, if you were of equal height, you might clap someone of the shoulder. Lem smiled down at him as he passed. Fero looked up, flashing him a small, wavering smile before heading towards the bar.

 

Lem sat down opposite Kliss and Snart. He took a nervous sip of the drink, then put his hands palms-down on his legs, trying to stop them from fidgeting. 

 

“Travelling with a halfling must be… unusual,” said Kliss after a moment.

 

“I suppose,” said Lem, “I’ve never really travelled with anyone else, so I don’t have much to compare it to.”

 

“Has he been helping with the plant?” asked Snart.

 

“Um,” Lem hesitated. “A little? I mean, I understand that it’s my responsibility, and I take it very seriously, of course, but Fero can, uh, talk? To plants? Which, you know, can be helpful, sometimes. Not that I’m making him do all the work--”

 

Kliss held up a hand, a small smile on their face. “You don’t have to give us the full dissertation.”

 

“Oh,” said Lem, “I thought that this was…”

 

Kliss raised an eyebrow. “Was what?”

 

“You know, an um, a more official thing.”

 

Snart laughed. “If it was we wouldn’t be doing it  _ here _ .”

 

“This is more social than official,” said Kliss, “there’ll be paperwork about it of course, there’s paperwork about everything. I wasn’t asking in an official capacity, I was just curious as to why you’d choose to travel with a halfling.”

 

“Well, we’re friends,” began Lem. 

 

He paused, not really knowing how to go on. Nacre was a confusing enough situation without going into their impact on the series of events leading up to the Ordenan invasion. Lem glanced to where Fero was weaving around other halflings as he made his way to the bar.

 

“We’ve known each other for a while,” Lem added after a moment, “we’ve, um, been travelling together since I left the New Archives.”

 

Kliss hummed noncommittally, taking a sip of their drink. Snart leant forward.

 

“So,” said Snart, grinning over at Lem, “how long have the two of you been dating?”

 

Lem blinked, feeling as though he’d missed something. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

Snart and Kliss laughed, and Kliss pushed Snart in the shoulder good-naturedly.

 

“He’s just joking,” said Kliss.

 

“Oh,” said Lem.

 

Snart was still chuckling to himself. “Yeah, can you even imagine dating a halfling? How would that even  _ work _ ?”

 

Kliss pushed Snart again, grinning.

 

Lem could, actually. It was very easy to imagine what dating a halfling would be like. 

 

He and Fero had spent a lot of time together since Lem had left the New Archives. Lem knew Fero wasn’t perfect, obviously-- he snored (and wouldn’t admit it!), he sulked, he rushed into trouble trying to show off even though he  _ had _ to know that Lem hated it, he transformed without warning which  _ always  _ got them into more trouble. 

 

But he also made Lem laugh when he didn’t expect to, and stepped in front of Lem when there was trouble even though he was a quarter of Lem’s size, and was always willing to try new foods even though he didn’t actually need to eat, and when Lem had been running from the New Archives, scared and without a home, it had been Fero who had guided him through the forest to safety without asking for anything in return.

 

Not that he wanted to date Fero, of course. He and Fero were just very good friends, and that was why it was so easy for Lem to see why other people, specifically orcs in this case, would want to date him.

 

As Kliss and Snart continued to laugh, Lem felt irritation itch at the back of his throat.

 

Fero chose that moment to hop onto the bench seating beside Lem. His grin looked a little more forced than it had before.

 

“Sounds like I missed a good joke.” 

 

“Oh,” said Snart, “I was just saying to Lem here--”

 

_ Oh _ , thought Lem,  _ Oh no, I have to stop this.  _

 

So Lem did the first thing that came into his head: he reached for Fero’s free hand and twined their fingers together.

 

Fero froze, his body tensing as his looked down at their hands and then up at Lem. Lem continued to stare forward at Snart, and raised an eyebrow.

 

Kliss coughed. “Oh, sorry, we uh, didn’t realise you were…”

 

“Yes, well,” said Lem, feeling relieved that his gambit had paid off.

 

Kliss nudged Snart with their elbow. 

 

“Uh, I didn’t mean anything by it,” said Snart, “You have to admit, it’s a little… unusual.”

 

“Is it?” said Lem vaguely, hoping to move off the conversation before Snart said anything more detailed about halflings.

 

“I mean, you just don’t see a lot of orc and halflings socialising together, let alone, you know, uh,  _ romantically linked _ .”

 

“Oh, I hadn’t really noticed,” said Lem, trying to keep his voice steady.

 

Fero’s eyes had gotten wider and wider as the conversation went on.

 

“So uh, how long have the two of you been… together?” said Kliss, awkwardly.

 

Kliss looked at Fero. Lem squeezed Fero’s hand. He hoped Fero would understand enough to go along with him on this. It certainly wouldn’t be the first situation they’d been in where Fero had understood enough to cover for him.

 

“Um, you know, a while,” said Fero. His voice sounded strained.

 

“Since we met, basically,” Lem added.

 

Fero took a long drink, giving Lem an odd expression over the rim of his glass. Lem squeezed his hand again but Fero’s expression remained unchanged.

 

“Oh!” said the Kliss, “ _ That’s _ why you left the New Archives? I always wondered.”

 

“Oh, yes,” said Lem, “I suppose it is.”

 

Fero spluttered, setting down his drink quickly as he coughed.

 

“Are you alright?” asked Lem.

 

“Am I  _ alright _ ?” managed Fero in between coughs, “You--” he broke off, glancing at Snart and Kliss. “I’m fine.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye Lem spotted Arva hovering at the next table. She waved when she saw them and Lem felt a wave of relief flow over him at an easy way out of their conversation.

 

“Well, I’m afraid we have to be going now,” said Lem, “we have dinner plans with Fero’s family, right Fero?”

 

“Uh, right,” said Fero, “Nice to meet you?”

 

Lem pulled Fero out of the booth towards Arva, keeping ahold of his hand so they didn’t get separated in the crowd. Arva smiled awkwardly at them as they approached. She looked pointedly at their joined hands and then at Fero.

 

Lem could see Kliss and Snart out of the corner of his eye, watching them. He squeezed Fero’s hand again.

 

“Those orcs weren’t giving you any trouble were they?” asked Arva.

 

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” said Fero, “Lem just--”

 

“Because you know  _ our  _ family is very supportive of whatever you chose to do,” continued Arva.

 

Lem’s mind went blank. “What?”

 

Arva patted Lem’s free hand. “Oh, there’s no need to try and hide things from me. I think you’re very cute together and if your family can’t see that, Lem then, well, that’s their loss. You’re always welcome in the Feritas home.”

 

“No, Arva, it’s not like that, come on,” said Fero.

 

Arva laughed and shook her head. “Let’s head back, dinner must be almost ready now and you’ll be wanting to make a good impression. Don’t want to be late for your first family dinner-- Oh!” She reached out and patted Lem’s hand again. “I was just teasing. Don’t worry, I’m sure the rest of the Feritas family will love you just as much as Fero does.”

 

Lem tried to shoot Fero a look, but Fero wouldn’t meet his gaze. He tried to hang back as they followed Arva back to the Feritas family home.

 

“Sorry about this,” whispered Lem.

 

“ _ Sorry _ ?” whispered Fero, “Sorry does not even begin to cover it right now, Lem.”

 

“Is it really that awful for your family to think we’re dating?” said Lem, “Oh-- do you think this means they’ll show me the really  _ good _ baby photos?”

 

Fero made a face. “I don’t-- that’s not the part I’m upset about.”

 

“Oh?” said Lem.

 

Fero’s cheeks went pink. “No, I mean, I’m  _ upset  _ because now we have to continue this stupid lie for the rest of the time we’re here,” said Fero, straining to keep his voice at a whisper, “They already think-- I mean, Arva’s going to broadcast it as soon as she gets in the door.”

 

“We could ask her not to say anything?” suggested Lem.

 

Fero made a face. “You heard her back at the inn, she’d think we were just _ hiding our love  _ or whatever, she’d probably make it her mission to get us to announce it during a family dinner. My family’s not big on having secrets.”

 

Arva looked back at them over her shoulder. “What are you two lovebirds whispering about?”

 

“None of your business,” said Fero quickly.

 

“ _ Ohhh _ , I get it,” said Arva, waggling her eyebrows.

 

Lem felt himself blush. Curiously, so did Fero, the pink of his cheeks deepening.

 

“Shut up,” said Fero. 

 

“Well, you’re going to have to put your  _ plans  _ on hold for a little while,” said Arva, “we’re almost there.”

 

The Feritas family home was a small cottage, built on the outskirts of their farm. Lem suspected that, much like most of the town, there was more to the building underground. The farm spread out behind it, ordered rows of crops with the forest behind it. It was hard for Lem to picture Fero, with all his excitable wildness, growing up in such an ordered place, a place with walls, and rules, and confines.

 

“You might have to duck your head for like, the entire time we’re here,” said Fero, his hand fidgeting with the hem of his tunic, “Sorry.”

 

“That’s okay,” said Lem, “I mean, it’s like that in Velas too.”

 

“Yeah but you’ll  _ really _ have to do it here,” said Fero, making a face, “it’s not exactly built for orcs.”

 

“I’m pretty short for an orc.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re still  _ seven feet tall _ ,” said Fero, “You--”

 

“Fero!” 

 

Fero froze, and Lem almost walked into the back of him.

 

A middle-aged halfling was coming out of the farmhouse towards them. As she got closer, Lem could see she had eyes like Fero’s, the corners of them crinkling up as she smiled. She held her arms open as she walked towards them, wrapping them around Fero as soon as she got close enough.

 

After a moment, Fero awkwardly hugged her back.

 

“Uh, hi, mom,” said Fero.

 

“Arva said she saw you earlier in the markets today,” said Fero’s mother, “what took you so long?”

 

“We--uh, Lem had to do some Archivist stuff,” said Fero.

 

“They were at the inn,” said Arva.

 

Fero twisted a little to glare at her.

 

“I’m afraid it was my fault, Mrs Feritas,” said Lem, “I thought it was more urgent than it was.”

 

Fero’s mother stepped back (Fero stepped back out of her reach immediately), tilting her head to look up at him.

 

“You must be Lem.”

 

“Oh! Yes,” said Lem, holding his hand out and then immediately regretting his choice.

 

Fero’s mother smiled, shaking his hand politely. “It’s wonderful to meet you. Fero has, of course, not told us anything about you, but all the orcs I’ve met have been perfectly polite.”

 

“Since when have you met any orcs?” muttered Fero.

 

She ignored him. “Now, we have quite a few people over for dinner tonight so things might be a bit cramped.”

 

“Oh, that’s alright,” said Lem.

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, “we’ll go eat somewhere else--”

 

“You will not,” said Fero’s mother, “Everyone’s very excited that you’re home and that you’ve brought a--”

 

“Boyfriend,” interjected Arva with a grin.

 

Fero made an odd noise, a barely suppressed groan.

 

Fero’s mother blinked, her look of surprise quickly fading into a beaming smile. “Well! Then that settles things. I hope you can stay for dinner as well, Lem?”

 

“I--” said Lem hesitatingly.

 

“I’m sure Lem has some Archivist business he needs to attend to,” said Fero.

 

“Fero! Don’t be rude!” said Fero’s mother, “Lem, we’d love to have you.”

 

“Oh, I couldn’t impose,” Lem began.

 

“It’s no imposition at all, and what kind of hosts would we be if we forced Fero’s boyfriend to go elsewhere while he was in town?”

 

“ _ Mom _ ,” said Fero, “maybe Lem doesn’t  _ want  _ to eat every meal here.”

 

“It doesn’t have to be every meal of course,” said Fero’s mother, “but as you’re staying here--”

 

“He needs to stay closer to the other Archivists, right Lem?” said Fero.

 

“Um,” said Lem.

 

“Nonsense,” said Fero’s mother, “why wouldn’t he want to stay with the person he’s dating? I’m sure Lem wants to spend as much time with you as possible.”

 

“We’ve spent the past few years together,” said Fero, “I’m sure Lem has had enough of me.”

 

“Not at all,” said Lem, “it’s been a very nice couple of years, actually.”

 

Fero gave Lem an odd look.

 

“There, see,” said Fero’s mother, “it’s settled. He can even stay with you in your room, as long as the two of you behave yourselves.”

 

“ _ Mom _ ,” said Fero again, his face going bright pink.

 

Lem felt his face heat up as well. “I promise we will, Mrs Feritas.”

 

She reached over and squeezed Lem’s hand. “You’re a good boy. And please, you can call me Calora.”

 

“Then I promise we will,Calora,” said Lem.

 

Calora beamed at him. “There, it’s settled. Dinner’s still awhile away--”

 

“I was going to show Lem around the farm,” said Fero, “you know, see what’s changed, show him the crops…”

 

“I was hoping you’d come inside and say hello to everyone before you disappeared again,” said Calora, “and I’m sure they’d love to meet you, Lem.”

 

“Come on Fero,” said Arva, “you can  _ show Lem the crops _ any time.”

 

Fero’s cheeks flushed pink again. “Fine.”

 

Calora beamed.

 

Lem did indeed have to duck to enter the house, stooping a little as he walked. The ceilings of the Feritas home were a bit lower than the shops he’d been in earlier that day. Calora led them into a small sitting room. Two older-looking halflings and five child halflings looked up as they entered, the younger ones openly gawking at Lem. Lem gave them a small wave, and they giggled.

 

“Look who’s home!” said Calora, sounding pleased.

 

“Late,” muttered one of the older halflings.

 

“And this is Lem, Fero’s boyfriend,” said Arva pointedly.

 

“Hello,” said Lem.

 

“You really don’t have to keep introducing him like that,” said Fero.

 

“Well if  _ you’re _ not going to do it,” said Arva, shrugging.

 

“Lem, this is Belaire and Oxley,” said Calora.

 

The two older halfling nodded as Calora indicated to one, then the other. Belaire looked them over with a critical eye, while Oxley only glanced at them before returning to their knitting.

 

Calora gestured to the empty lounge chairs. “Please, sit. I’m just going to check on dinner.”

 

“If  _ you  _ asked Arva to stop doing that she might actually listen to you,” whispered Fero as they moved to sit down.

 

“I don’t mind,” said Lem quietly to Fero as he gingerly sat in one of the chairs. It made a slight creaking noise but didn’t seem to be in danger of collapsing.

 

“I--really?” said Fero.

 

“I mean, it’s my fault we’re in this situation,” said Lem, “I can handle a little embarrassment.”

 

“It’s not just a little embarassment, it’s  _ humiliating _ ,” said Fero.

 

“So, Fero,” said Belaire, “what have you been doing with yourself all this time?”

 

Fero shrugged. “Living in the woods, mostly.”

 

“ _ Really _ ?” said one of the children, eye wide.

 

“Don’t listen to him,” said Belaire, “you can’t have a proper career if you run away to live in the woods.”

 

“You absolutely can,” said Fero, “You can be an adventurer.”

 

“Oh, of  _ course, _ ” said Belaire, “that’s a very stable career. Lots of upward mobility, I’m sure.” She turned to Lem. “And what about  _ you _ , Lem, is it? You’re an Archivist?”

 

“Um, yes, sort of,” said Lem, “I’ve been on a, um, a hiatus, of a sort.”

 

Belaire nodded. “No crime in taking a short break in between honest work. You could learn something from him, Fero.”

 

Fero frowned, looking down at the floor, his shoulders tense. The only sound came from the kitchen, the distant clanking of pots.

 

“Um,” said Lem, reaching for topics of conversation, “is the farm going well?”

 

Oxley looked up at that, smiling over at Lem. “Well, yes and no. It really depends whether you take the short view or the long view, you see.”

 

There was, apparently, a great deal more to raising crops than Lem had previously thought, and it was all covered as the afternoon dragged on, Belaire and Oxley going back and forth with their predictions for the Feritas farm’s next crops under the new weather conditions. Fero, surprisingly, fidgeted in his seat but said nothing, staring out the window whenever Lem glanced over at him. His gaze was fixed on the forest, just visible in the corner of the window.

 

Dinner was much the same, with the conversation turning to politics. Lem knew some of the people involved of course, from Velas gossip and half-remembered Archive reports, but the political situation in Rosemerrow as presented by the Feritas family seemed infinitely more complicated-- a series of tangled webs, tying some to scandal and others to power (and, in some cases, to both).

 

“It’s not for me,” said Calora, “but it’s a wonderful opportunity to make a difference in Rosemerrow, and it’s a shame that so many throw that away for fleeting pleasure.”

 

Belaire snorted. “I’m glad none of us are caught up in it. You’d best stay clear of it too, Fero. It’s a lot more complicated than when you were a child.”

 

“I’m not going to be here long enough to get caught up in it,” said Fero.

 

“You’ll be back here eventually,” said Belaire, waving his fork in Fero’s direction, “so remember: the farm is stable where politics are not.”

 

Fero pushed his food around his plate, his frown deepening into a scowl. “I’m not going to work on the farm either. We’re just here for the museum opening.”

 

“Of course, of course,” said Belaire, “you’ve got to go help Lem here with his Archivist business. But after that, when you settle down a little.”

 

Calora nodded absent-mindedly in agreement, leaning over to wipe at one of the younger children’s face with a small cloth. The conversation turned back to politics at large, a little rowdy at times, but the disagreements were, as far as Lem could tell, mostly amicable.

 

The only tension in the air came from Fero, although no one else at the table seemed to notice it. He had gone still and quiet, and Lem could see his hands twisting under the table. Lem moved to put his hand over them, squeezing once. Fero looked up at him.

 

Lem leant over slightly, so he could whisper to Fero. “I can’t imagine you working on a farm.”

 

A look of relief washed over Fero’s face. “Me either.”

  
  


After dinner Fero pulled Lem outside. Lem could see his breath in the night air.

 

“I think it’s a bit dark to show me the crops now,” said Lem.

 

Fero made a face. “I just… don’t want to be inside for a bit, okay?”

 

Standing in the snow in the dark, Fero looked a lot smaller than usual, shoulders hunching as he crossed his arms. 

 

“Okay,” said Lem.

 

There was a noise from inside and Lem grabbed Fero’s hand, glancing back over his shoulder at the kitchen window. Fero frowned.

 

“In case they’re still watching us,” said Lem quietly.

 

“Oh,” said Fero, “yeah. Of course. Should I, um...”

 

Fero paused, then leaned into Lem’s side. Lem put his arm around Fero’s shoulder. Fero tensed under his touch.

 

“Fero, are you… okay?”

 

Fero didn’t look at him. “Yeah, it’s just…” he sighed. “This is weird.”

 

“It’s not  _ that _ weird,” said Lem.

 

If he sounded defensive, well. That was because this had been his plan originally, and he thought it was a good plan. Fero came up with ridiculous plans all the time that Lem was forced to go along with, this was just evening things out, if anything.

 

“Yeah,” said Fero, “it is.”

 

“Well, you don’t have to keep it up much longer,” said Lem, “it’s just until we get the stuff from the museum, and then you won’t have to bear the terrible burden of pretending to date an orc.”

 

Lem had meant it as a joke, but Fero’s frown only deepened.

 

“That not the-- dating you is fine. I mean,” Fero added, stumbling a little over his words, “if we were really dating, that would be fine. If that was something you ever wanted to do. Or whatever.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “I just don’t like all the  _ pretending _ stuff. I don’t think I’m very good at it.”

 

“I think you’re great at it,” said Lem.

 

Fero snorted. “Thanks.”

 

“No, I mean, I think you’re great at being a boyfriend.”

 

“Oh.”

 

He could feel Fero’s shoulders twitching as he fidgeted.

 

“So,” said Lem after a moment, “if we’re not going inside, what  _ are _ we going to do?”

 

“Well,” said Fero slowly, “there is  _ something _ I could show you. It’s not very exciting, but at least we’d be out of the cold for a little bit without having to go back inside.”

 

Fero led him towards the barn that was a little way away from the house, a structure that would be huge even in the New Archives, let alone on a halfling farm. Fero pushed the door open a crack, motioning for Lem to follow him.

 

It took Lem a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He could hear small animal noises, the soft scuffle of hooves on hay. He reached out and clumsily grabbed the closest part of Fero he could find in the darkness, which turned out to be Fero’s shoulder.

 

Fero turned his head back towards Lem, frowning slightly. “They can’t see us in here you know.”

 

“ _ I _ can’t see us in here,” said Lem, “and I don’t actually know where we’re going at the moment.”

 

“Oh, sorry,” said Fero, “It’s, um... it’s this way.”

 

Fero took Lem’s hand off his shoulder, holding it loosely in his own as he led Lem towards a small rickety-looking step ladder. Lem eyed it warily.

 

“Are you sure it, uh, that is... I’m a lot more, you know, than a halfling,” said Lem, “I don’t want to break it.”

 

“It’s fine,” said Fero, “it’s a lot stronger than it looks.”

 

True to Fero’s word, the ladder held out as Lem made the short climb to the top. The ladder ended at a small loft. There was more light now that he was up there, coming in from the small window that looked out onto the fields below. The loft looked to Lem like it was used as  a storage area, a few old tools leaning against the wall and the piles of old hay giving it a not-entirely-unpleasant musty smell. It reminded Lem a little of some of the older collections in the Archives.

 

Fero stood by the window, looking around at the small area. He scuffed his foot along the floor, making a track in the hay and dust with his foot.

 

“I told you it wasn’t very exciting,” said Fero, “It’s, um, it was always much quieter, up here. No one really comes up here much.”

 

He sat down in the hay, gesturing for Lem to sit next to him. Lem did, leaning against the wall. It felt a little cold, some of the night air leeching into the wood of the structure, but the hay was warm. Fero leant on the wall next to Lem, his arm radiating heat where it was almost touching Lem’s.

 

“I used to come up here a lot, before I left,” said Fero, “It’s a good place for when you want people to leave you alone.”

 

“Not as good as the forest though, right?” said Lem.

 

Fero huffed a laugh. “No, not quite as good as that.”

 

They sat in the quiet for a long time, listening to the soft snuffling of the animals below.

 

Fero’s head slid to rest on Lem’s arm. Lem looked down to see that Fero had fallen asleep against his side. Fero’s breaths were deep and even, his hand pillowed under his cheek where his face was pressed against Lem’s side. Lem smiled. Fero looked so peaceful, and he felt very warm against Lem’s side. Lem wished all their adventures together got to have quiet moments like this.

 

The clouds moved away from the moon, illuminating the loft in white light. Fero’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheek as he stirred, looking up at Lem with half-lidded eyes, smiling sleepily. Lem’s breath caught in his throat.

 

“Oh, sorry,” said Fero.

 

He brushed a hand through his hair, sitting up a little. Some of Fero’s hair flopped back into his face and, without really meaning to, Lem reached over and smoothed it back down. Fero leant into the touch and then froze, his expression going for half-asleep to panic. Lem froze too, finger curling as he quickly withdrew his hand.

 

“Sorry,” said Lem.

 

“No, it’s fine,” said Fero, sounding strained, “I supposed we should start thinking about bed. I mean, sleep. Bed, for sleeping, obviously.”

 

“Yeah,” said Lem, “they’re probably wondering where we are.”

 

Fero ran a hand through his hair again. “Hopefully it’s late enough that we can sneak back in without it being a big deal.”

 

The house was quiet and still as they made their way towards the stairs. Arva was still up, tidying up in the kitchen as they passed by. She raised her eyebrows at them, grinning. Fero rolled his eyes at her, pulling Lem towards the stairs.

 

Fero’s room was small and dusty. Lem poked around, squinting at the shelves in the darkness as Fero fumbled around looking for candles. It was a strange assortment of objects-- some rocks and leaves, a few feathers, a roughly-carved flute. Lem picked up the flute and played a few notes on it, experimentally. The notes seemed all out of order.

 

“Did you make this?” said Lem, keeping his voice low.

 

Fero nodded. The flame from the candle threw odd shadows around the room as he moved towards Lem. 

 

“I had this idea that if I played the right notes, I could talk to birds,” said Fero.

 

“Can’t you do that anyway?”

 

“Well, yeah,” said Fero, “but not when I was a kid.”

 

Lem turned the flute over in his hands. “Did it work?”

 

Fero shook his head, huffing a laugh. “Nah. That’s not really how bird language works anyway.” He bit his lip. “Listen, uh, I know my mom said we’re sharing a room and everything, but I can take the floor.”

 

“What?” said Lem.

 

Fero blinked. “Unless you…  _ want _ to share? It would be kind of cramped.”

 

“It was cramped when we shared at the New Archives too, but we managed,” said Lem, “besides, I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor of your own room.”

 

“It’s not really my room any more,” said Fero.

 

“Even so,” said Lem. He paused, pressing his lips together. “Unless you… I could sleep on the floor?”

 

“No, that’s dumb,” said Fero, “you’re right.”

 

“Even if it is cramped, it’s only for a couple of nights,” said Lem.

 

Fero gave him a wavering smile. “Yeah.”

 

Lem pulled off his boots and lay down. The bed was a little smaller than the one they’d shared at the New Archives, that winter when it had gotten too cold for Fero to want to sleep outside when there was a warmer option to be had. Fero gingerly laid down beside Lem. Lem tried to remember how their bodies had positioned themselves back then, in the cramped space of his dorm-room bed, eventually settling on his side.

 

Fero turned away from him, curling under the blanket. “Goodnight, Lem.”

 

Lem frowned at the low note to Fero’s voice. “Night, Fero.”

 

Sleep did not come easily to Lem that night. Whenever he shut his eyes, the vision of Fero lit by the silvery moonlight played over and over in his mind. He rolled over onto his back, careful not to wake Fero, and stared up at the ceiling. His chest felt tight. 

 

Next to him, Fero snored. It should have been annoying, but instead Lem found himself smiling at the familiar pattern of it. He shut his eyes again, and tried to sleep.

 

The image of Fero swam in his mind again, the light catching Fero’s eyelashes.

 

Lem rubbed his eyes. He rolled over carefully in the small bed space to look at Fero. Maybe if he could replace the Fero in his memory with a more recent Fero he could stop his mind from being so stuck on it.

 

Lem squinted at Fero in the darkness. In the thin beam of moonlight coming in from between the curtains, Lem could just make out Fero’s features. Not that it mattered of course, Lem could probably recreate Fero’s face from memory-- soft brown hair, golden eyelashes resting against tan cheeks, pink lips that curved into a wicked grin when he told a joke, freckles that Lem could study for a hundred years and never tire of making patterns out of-- a face he knew very well.

 

Lem suddenly felt very aware of all the part of himself that were touching Fero, and all the parts of Fero that were touching him. In the confines of the small bed, he couldn’t move away from Fero, and he couldn’t get out either-- Fero, being a light sleeper from his years in the forest, would have woken up. 

 

There was a lock of hair falling in front of Fero’s eyes, and Lem’s hand itched to brush it out out of Fero’s face, the way he had done earlier in the loft. Instead, he stared at Fero in the dim light, his hands curled in close to his chest, until his eyes felt too heavy to stay open any longer.

  
  


Lem came slowly into awareness in the dawn light, a warm weight lying across his chest. He blinked slowly up at the ceiling, remembering where he was. He looked down at his chest and saw the source of the warmth-- Fero, lying half-draped across his chest, still fast asleep. One of Fero’s hands was curled around Lem’s loosened shirt collar, and Lem could feel Fero’s knuckles brush against his chest every time he took a breath.

 

Lem felt the same itch in his hands as he had the night before, this time accompanied by a strange tightness in his chest, an almost-ache that made it difficult to breathe. He wondered how long they’d been sleeping in this position. It was a lot more comfortable than the position he’d fallen asleep in, body straining not to touch Fero more than he had to. This felt easier, the warmth of Fero’s body adding another layer of heat against the cold morning air.

 

As if woken by Lem’s gaze, Fero stretched and yawned the way a sleepy cat might, flexing his hands as he stretched. Fero sat up, the way he’d been lying across Lem meaning that when he pushed himself up, he pushed onto Lem’s chest. Lem made a soft ‘ _ oof _ ’ noise, and Fero blinked down at him.

 

“Oh,” said Fero, his voice a soft rasp, “sorry. What time is it?”

 

Lem glanced to the window. “Just past sunrise, I think.”

 

Fero let out a long breath, still seeming mostly asleep. “We’ve missed the breakfast rush then. C’mon.”

 

He slid off of the bed, leaning on the door frame as he waited for Lem to put his shoes back on. Lem looked up at him and then quickly ducked his head, smiling to himself. Fero could get up as early as their day required him to, but it always took him a little while to be fully awake, spending the first part of his day still pliant and sleepy. Even though Lem saw him like this most mornings, it never quite stopped being faintly amusing.

 

Lem guided Fero down the stairs, keeping a hand on Fero’s shoulder as they made their way down. Fero leant into his touch, his head brushing against Lem’s leg.

 

The rest of Fero’s family looked as though they had already been and gone, dishes piled in the sink. Oxley was there, filling the sink with soapy water. They shut off the tap when Lem and Fero entered.

 

“Ah,” they said, smiling as Lem and Fero entered, “you’re  _ finally _ up!”

 

“It’s only  _ just  _ past sunrise,” said Fero, suppressing a yawn.

 

The sunrise was just beginning to shine through the kitchen window, catching on Fero’s eyelashes as he frowned at Oxley. Lem swallowed hard, looking away. He’d had a hard enough time getting that particular image out of his head the night before, he didn’t need it to be refreshed.

 

Oxley huffed a laugh. “And past time to be working. You two are last up so you have to do the dishes.”

 

“Yeah yeah,” said Fero, “I remember.”

 

Oxley ruffled Fero’s hair as they made their way outside. Fero made a face, then yawned again. He leant into the yawn, stretching his arms above his head. The bottom of his shirt riding up to reveal a small sliver of skin. 

 

“So what d’you want for breakfast?” said Fero.

 

Lem blinked, looking back at Fero’s face. “Sorry, what?”

 

“I said ‘what do you want for breakfast’, like, to eat?” said Fero, giving him an odd look, “are you feeling okay?”

 

Lem gave what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Oh, sure. Sorry, I suppose I’m still a bit asleep.”

 

Fero hummed, opening the small icebox in the corner of the room. He pulled out a small container of mulberries, eating a few before holding them out to Lem, his fingers already stained pink. Lem carefully picked out a few, the juice staining his fingertips to match Fero’s.

 

Fero seemed more awake after he’d eaten, pulling out some bread and eggs to make what he dubbed ‘an  _ actual _ breakfast’. It was good, better than what Fero managed to cook on the road whenever they ran out of rations. Better still because of how peaceful it was, with the early morning light warming the kitchen, the sound of singing coming from the fields. 

 

Fero looked out the window, wrinkling his nose at the sound. “I can’t believe they  _ still _ do that.”

 

“The singing?” said Lem, moving to stand beside him. “It’s nice.”

 

“Yeah, but the reason you can hear it is because they don’t use any machinery,” said Fero, still frowning out at the fields.

 

“Isn’t that pretty usual for Rosemerrow?”

 

Fero snorted. “Yeah. I mean, that’s part of the problem. If you say ‘hey, why don’t you bring in some of that Ordenan farming equipment to help plow?’ they’re all like ‘how dare you soil the family land with even the thought of this!’,” said Fero, waving his arms for emphasis.

 

Lem looked down at him.

 

“Okay,” said Fero, “maybe Ordena isn’t the best example, but you know what I mean. It’s avoiding progress for the sake of appearances. They don’t  _ really _ want to stay in the past, they just want to stay there because everybody  _ else _ is there.”

 

Lem thought of the Archives, always working tirelessly to try to return Hieron to the time before the Erasure. If he hadn’t felt compelled to take the violin, he’d still be there, arranging and rearranging objects, trying to find the right arrangement of objects to fix the world.

 

“A lot of places have community norms,” said Lem.

 

“Yeah, but this is just a  _ pretend _ one,” said Fero.

 

“If everyone is pretending the same thing, doesn’t that make it at least a little bit real?” said Lem.

 

Fero’s shoulder stilled. “No. It doesn’t.”

 

He was staring down at the soapy dishes in his hands, the cloth hanging loosely between his fingers. His expression was hidden, his scruffy hair falling across his face. Lem raised a hand and then withdrew it, suppressing the impulse to tuck it behind Fero’s ear.

 

“I don’t know,” said Lem, “I think sometimes a group of people believing something is enough to make it real.”

 

Fero shook his head. “That doesn’t change how things really are. I mean, if enough people think we’re dating, does that mean we’re  _ really dating _ ?”

 

“Well, that’s different,” said Lem.

 

“Because orcs and halflings dating is  _ unimaginable _ ,” said Fero dismissively, “I mean, how would that even work, right?”

 

“What are you--” Snart’s words from the inn floated back to Lem, and he froze. “Oh. I didn’t think you’d… heard that.”

 

Fero dropped the dish back into the sink, water splashing up on his shirt. “Yeah, well, I did.”

 

“I… I was kind of hoping I’d managed to stop them talking like that before you got back.”

 

A strange expression passed over Fero’s face. “Wait, is  _ that _ why you held my hand?”

 

“Well, yes,” said Lem, “Why  _ else _ would I have done it?”

 

“I don’t know!” said Fero, throwing his hands up in the air, “I thought you just got nervous or something!”

 

“Why would I do something like  _ that  _ if I was nervous?” said Lem.

 

“I don’t know!” said Fero, his voice sounding strained, “Why would you decide that the best way to stop other orcs from saying shitty things about halflings was to pretend we were dating?!”

 

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the  _ best _ plan” said Lem, “but I’ve gone along with your terrible plans often enough that I think you should give me this one.”

 

“My plans,” huffed Fero, “are  _ not _ terrible. My plans are good plans, you just never think about them long enough to recognise their brilliance.”

 

“It’s as you said, Fero,” said Lem, “people believing something doesn’t make it real.”

 

“Yeah, well, then you can get people to believe  _ this _ ,” said Fero, flicking drops of water on Lem’s stomach as he gestured between them, “by yourself.”

 

“What does  _ that _ mean?” said Lem.

 

Fero turned away, walking towards the door. “Whatever you want to  _ believe _ it means.”

 

Lem tried to follow him. “Oh come on, you can’t just--”

 

On one swing of the door Fero was standing on the other side, and on the next swing he was gone. Lem peered out. There was no sign of Fero. A bird was fluttering after the rest of the flock, heading for the forest and Lem squinted at them for a moment, wondering if one of them was Fero. From this distance, it was impossible to tell.

 

Lem sighed, and returned to doing the dishes alone. He’d managed to return most of them to their proper place once he’d dried them, a few odds and ends sitting on the counter next to the sink, when Arva returned.

 

She raised her eyebrows at him, setting the laundry basket she had been carrying down on the table.

 

“Sorry,” said Lem, “I wasn’t sure where to put them?”

 

“I suppose it has been a while since Fero was here,” said Arva, picking up one of the larger pans, “It’s understandable that he would have forgotten.”

 

Lem twisted the tea towel in his hands. “I, um, didn’t ask him.”

 

Arva paused from where she was hanging the pan on the wall. “He just left you here to do the dishes by yourself?”

 

“No,” said Lem, “Well, yes, but it’s… we had an argument earlier.”

 

“So you had an argument, and then he left you to do the dishes,” said Arva. She sighed.

 

Lem wrapped the tea towel around his hand, and then unwound it. “I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

 

Arva patted Lem’s arm. “Well, it’s very nice of you to finish up his chores.”

 

Lem looked down at Arva curiously. “You don’t seem worried that he’s gone.”

 

Arva sighed, a faint smile on her face. “He’s always been a bit… flighty, disappearing for bits and pieces at a time when he was a kid. But you’ve travelled with him, I’m sure you know.”

 

“Oh, yes, of course,” said Lem, “Yes, I know.”

 

But Lem  _ didn’t _ know. When they argued Fero tended to stay around, poking and prodding at Lem with comments, complaining and whining as they kept doing whatever it was they were doing-- through long stretches of travel, during battle with pirates, as they walked through Velas. Fero had always been by his side, rarely quiet and never, ever still, steadfast in his dedication to loudly disagreeing with every decision Lem made.

 

Steadfast in staying by Lem’s side no matter what, actually. No matter how loudly he disagreed, no matter how much he complained, no matter how dangerous the situation got, Fero was there, somewhere below Lem’s elbow, ready to back him up against whatever they were facing, even if he was more than happy to tell Lem how wrong his decisions were afterwards.

 

“He’ll be back for lunch,” said Arva.

 

“He doesn’t actually need to eat,” said Lem.

 

“Even so,” said Arva, “you just watch.”

 

Lem moved to help Arva fold the laundry, and she gave him a grateful smile. The task helped keep Lem’s mind off how slow time seemed to be passing. Gradually, the rest of the Feritas family trickled in, chatting to each other as they grabbed a small meal before heading back out into the fields.

 

Fero still did not return.

 

“I’m just… I’m a little worried,” said Lem.

 

Oxley looked up from where they were trying to convince one of the younger children to wash the remnants of lunch off their hands before they went back to their toys.

 

“There’s no need,” said Oxley, “He always comes back.”

 

“Yes, Arva said that,” said Lem, “I suppose I’m just not as… experienced in waiting.”

 

Oxley huffed a laugh. “He certainly does take his time sometimes. After all, look how long it took him to come home this time.”

 

They’d obviously meant it as a joke, their tone light and smiling to themselves as they said it, but Lem felt a jolt in his chest. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. It was strange how someone who looked so like Fero could not know him at all.

 

Lem thought of how Fero had been when they’d first met, bursts of conversation followed by long silences. It had taken a long time before Lem had put together why-- that Fero had been by himself in the forest for so long that he’d forgotten how to talk to other people, that he’d forgotten what the rhythm of conversation sounded like.

 

How every time Lem saw him, in the forests near the New Archives, he looked surprised to see Lem back again, as though he hadn’t been sure Lem would follow through on their plans to meet. As if Lem could have ever forgotten Fero, with his too-loud voice, wild hair, and ability to turn into an animal at will (and his sharp girn, and bright laugh, and the way his small hand would reach out and grab the side of Lem’s jacket, whenever there was danger, and sometimes just when he saw something that Lem might be interested in, and his swirling pattern of freckles…).

 

Lem stood up. “I’m just-- I think I’m going to take a walk around the farm, if that’s alright?”

 

“Sure, sure,” said Oxley, distracted by the child wriggling in their grip, “Cece, I  _ swear _ \--”

 

Lem headed out of the house. He tried to not make it too obvious that he was heading for the forest, taking a longer, arcing path around the edge of the fields. He didn’t have a particular spot in mind. Fero had lived all over the forest after all, and Lem only knew about a handful of spots. 

 

The waterfall they’d stopped by in the summer, dangling their feet in the cool water. A blackberry thicket that Fero had hid in during his first time as a squirrel. A grouping of tall oak trees, that Fero swore he could see all of Hieron from the top of. Places that Fero had told him that he used to go when he was alone, so he could think. Places he and Fero had gone together, for no other reason than that Fero had wanted Lem to see them.

 

Lem’s feet slowed as he approached the barn. The door of the barn was open, just a crack. Just small enough for a halfling to slip inside. 

 

Lem pushed open the door wide enough the fit through, stepping into the gloom. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light, and he looked around for the ladder to the loft.

 

“Fero?”

 

There was no sound other than the soft snuffling of animals, the faint sound of singing coming from the fields outside. Lem eyed the ladder warily.

 

“Okay, I’m coming up,” said Lem, feeling slightly foolish.

 

Lem poked his head over the top of the loft, half expecting it to be empty. As always, Fero was contrary with what he expected, sitting with his back to the wall, the way they’d sat together the night before.

 

“There you are,” said Lem, pulling himself up.

 

Fero frowned. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

 

Lem shrugged. “I didn’t. But it was easier to check here than searching the whole forest.”

 

“You were going to look for me?” said Fero. His voice sounded very small in such a large space.

 

“I  _ did _ look for you,” said Lem, “And now, I’ve found you, so.” He paused. “Your family told me to wait but...”

 

Fero gave him a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he stood up. “Yeah, they’re not really ones for pointless search parties.”

 

“Oh,” said Lem, “sorry, I’ll--”

 

Fero’s hands fidgeted, brushing loose straw from his clothing. “No, it’s fine, I guess I was just...”

 

“Thinking?” offered Lem.

 

“Yeah,” said Fero quietly.

 

A silence stretch between them. Lem’s feet twitched in his shoes. It was hard to not close the space between them immediately, harder still to pretend to himself that he didn’t want to. 

 

“About before--” Lem began.

 

Fero looked pained, wrinkling his nose. “Lem, you don’t have to--”

 

“I know, I just- they were making jokes about how silly it would be, if the two of us were dating, and it made me feel… I couldn’t just let them say those things about you,” Lem finished awkwardly, “not when I  _ know _ you.”

 

“Lem…”

 

“No, Fero, look,” said Lem, “you’re funny, and clever, and you’re  _ wonderful _ , and anyone, orc or otherwise, would be lucky to date you.”

 

Fero looked wretched, wrapping his arms around himself, curling inwards. “You can’t just  _ say _ stuff like that when you don’t  _ mean _ it.”

 

“Who says I don’t mean it?”

 

“I do!” said Fero, voice cracking, “I’ve travelled with you for a long time Lem, so  _ I’d _ know, okay?” Fero turned away, his shoulders hunching inwards. “Just… cut it out, okay? Tell those orcs that you broke up with me, they barely believed you’d date a halfling anyway.”

 

“Fero…” said Lem softly.

 

Fero waved a hand, still facing away from Lem. “It’s fine, I just… Pretending  _ sucks _ , okay? It really, really sucks, and I’d really prefer we get back to reality.”

 

The tight feeling came back over Lem’s chest, making it hard to breathe.

 

“Yeah,” he managed, “Yeah, pretending is hard.”

 

Lem took half a step towards Fero, not sure if he should reach out and touch Fero’s shoulder. He didn’t want Fero to leave, but if Fero shook him off or worse, flinched away from him… Lem curled his fingers back, shoving his hands into his pockets.

 

“So, what if I don’t want to pretend either?”

 

“Well, good,” snapped Fero, “then we agree on something for once.”

 

“No, I mean,” Lem took a deep breath, bracing himself. “What if I want to do this for real?”

 

Fero turned to face him. “You what?”

 

“I think that I,” Lem took another breath, trying to make sure his words came out in the correct order. “I would like to date you, Fero Feritas, in a way that is not at all pretend and is  _ very much _ for real.”

 

“I… you do,” said Fero.

 

Lem thought about Fero snoring and arguing and whining and complaining and picking fights with him just because he felt like being contrary. Lem thought about Fero falling asleep against his side and sticking up for him in conversations with strangers and sharing secrets with him.

 

“Yes,” said Lem, “I think I... might be sort of in love with you?”

 

“You-- you think you might be--” Fero broke off, laughing.

 

Lem felt his face warm. “Fero, if you don’t want to you should just say so. At least wait until I’m out of the room to laugh at me.”

 

Fero reached out and wrapped his hand around Lem’s wrist.

 

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s--” another laugh burbled out of Fero and he covered his mouth with his free hand.

 

“ _ Fero _ .”

 

“Wait, wait,” gasped Fero, “Okay. Just give me a moment.” He took a few deep breaths. “I am not laughing at you, I’m laughing at  _ me _ .”

 

Lem looked down at Fero, frowning.

 

Fero’s grip tightened around his wrist. “Lem, I’ve been in love with you for  _ ages _ .”

 

This time it was Lem’s turn to be stunned. “I-- you have?”

 

Fero ducked his head. “I thought I was being kind of obvious about it.”

 

“Not to me,” said Lem, “Why didn’t you ever  _ say _ anything?”

 

Fero shrugged. “I didn’t know if that was something Archivists  _ did _ .”

 

Lem took his hand out of his pocket, moving so that he could twine his fingers together with Fero’s. Fero looked down at their joined hands and then up at Lem, wonderingly.

 

“It is something that Archivists do,” said Lem.

 

“Oh, well that’s,” Fero’s voice faltered, and his looked down at their joined hands again for a moment. “That’s good.” 

 

“It is. In fact, I would like to kiss you,” said Lem, “if that would that be okay?”

 

“Yes,” said Fero, “that would be very okay, actually.”

 

Lem bent down as Fero went up on tiptoes. It was a long distance for them to meet each other half way, but it felt worth it as Fero curled his hands around Lem’s collar. Lem put a hand on Fero’s side, steadying him.

 

Fero kissed him very gently, almost hesitant in his movements. Lem could feel him trembling a little under his hands, and he wasn’t sure if it was Fero being a unsteady on his tiptoes or something else. He broke off the kiss, pressing light kisses to Fero’s nose, his forehead. This close, his could see the swirling constellation of Fero’s freckles more clearly. It looked more beautiful than any night sky he’d ever seen.

 

Fero looked up at Lem, letting out a long, shaky breath. “I’ve… I’ve thought a lot about that.”

 

Lem blinked at him. “You have?”

 

Fero nodded, his cheeks turning pink.

 

Lem ran his hand along Fero’s side. “How did the reality compare?” 

 

“Better,” said Fero, tugging at Lem’s collar to pull him down for another kiss. “The reality is always better.”

 

Lem lowered himself to his knees to get a better angle, deepening the kiss. He was still a little higher than Fero, but at least now Fero didn’t have to go up on his toes. Fero seemed to appreciate it, sighing into the kiss, his hands reaching up to tangle themselves in Lem’s hair. Lem gasped softly, his toes curled reflexively in his shoes.

 

Lem kept his hands in Fero’s hips, fingers tracing patterns along Fero’s sides. Fero sighed again, pressing his body closer to Lem. Fero’s hands trailed down Lem’s shoulders and across his back, tracing patterns of their own. His hands moved, barely touching, along Lem’s belt before slipping into the back pockets of Lem’s pants.

 

Lem laughed, breaking off the kiss, and Fero grinned up at him sheepishly.

 

“I’ve thought a lot about that too.”

 

“I feel like I have a lot of catching up to do,” said Lem.

 

“That’s okay,” said Fero, leaning in for another kiss, “I’ll talk you through it.”

  
  


It was late afternoon by the time they made their way down from the loft. Lem picked stray pieces of hay out from Fero’s hair as they walked back to the house, letting his hands linger in Fero’s hair. Fero leant into his touch, peering around Lem’s hand to smile up at him.

 

“You’ve got some in your hair too you know,” said Fero.

 

“I do?” said Lem, running his hands along his braid. “Where?”

 

“Here, let me,” said Fero, gesturing for Lem to bend down.

 

Lem bent down, and instead of examining his head, Fero put his hand under Lem’s chin, tilting Lem’s face up so he could press a quick kiss to Lem’s lips. 

 

Lem huffed a laugh. “I suppose I should have expected that.”

 

“Oh, I’m sneaky,” said Fero cheerfully, “I’ll get’cha.”

 

Lem smiled. The afternoon sunlight gave everything a golden glow, shining off Fero’s hair. Lem brushed Fero’s hair off his face, tucking it behind one of Fero’s ears. Fero inhaled sharply.

 

“I suppose you did,” said Lem.

 

Fero leant up, and Lem cupped his cheek as their lips touched, sliding his hand into Fero’s hair.

 

Someone whistled. They broke apart, and looked towards the house to see Arva on the porch, grinning widely at them. Lem felt his face heat up.

 

“So  _ that’s _ where you’ve been all afternoon,” said Arva.

 

“Oh gods, now she really  _ is _ going to be unbearable about it,” muttered Fero, pressing his face into Lem’s shoulder.

 

Lem ran his hand down Fero’s arm, tangling their fingers together. Fero looked up at him. The light caught Fero’s freckles, making them stand out darker against Fero’s skin. The breath caught in Lem’s throat. He pressed a quick kiss to Fero’s nose.

 

“Come on you two,” said Arva, “you’re supposed to help with dinner tonight.”

 

Fero bit his lip, trying and failing to suppress a grin. “Okay,” said Fero, letting out a breath, “okay.”

 

Together, they walked towards the Feritas homestead, the afternoon sun warm on their joined hands.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr: mariusperkins


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